


On the Edge

by hadleyhooligan



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 14:44:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hadleyhooligan/pseuds/hadleyhooligan
Summary: Say hi to me on Tumblr at hairyhooligan!





	On the Edge

“Hiccup? Are you in – oh.” Astrid stops short in the doorway of Hiccup’s hut. He’s there, of course, working by the light of the fire of his forge. He’s banging on what looks like a connecting rod for Toothless’ tail, the metal ringing throughout the hut so loudly that he hasn’t heard her. This means she has a few moments in which to watch him.

Because he’s not wearing a shirt.

The muscles – slight but defined – that are usually hidden beneath his tunic are tense as he lifts the large hammer and brings it down again with an effort that makes his back shine with sweat. It doesn’t escape her notice that he actually _can_ lift a hammer now.

Toothless notices her, and he raises his head and croons. Hiccup stops, looking at Toothless before following the dragon’s gaze and noticing Astrid, still sanding by the doorway. “Astrid!”

“Oh! Hi – I, um…” But Astrid has lost her words again.

Because now she’s staring at his chest.

He gleams from sweat in the warm glow of the fire, his chest hairless, but there’s a thin trail on his stomach that disappears below his trousers. It isn’t quite as she’s pictured in her head, but the sight of him takes her breath away all the same.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I was about to meet you in the clubhouse, but I guess I lost track of time.” He gestures helplessly to the forge in a _What can you do?_ kind of way.

“It’s okay,” Astrid replies faintly. “Heather’s left dinner. I was just about to lay it out…”

“I’ll be right there.” He goes to reach for his shirt.

Before she can stop herself, before she even knows what she’s doing, Astrid blurts out, “No, don’t.”

Hiccup freezes, unsure. “Don’t what?”

She takes a deep breath. In barely more than a whisper she says, “Leave it off.”

Hiccup slowly lowers his hand. His gaze darts nervously around the room, at anywhere but Astrid, and it’s a small comfort that he’s as nervous as she. Finally, he leans back against the workbench, and finally meets her gaze. “Come here,” he says softly.

Astrid does, though her knees wobble with every step, and she prays her nerves don’t cause her to fall over. She wraps her arms around his neck, and any awkwardness she was feeling disappears. When she’s with him, the world stops spinning, and she feels more grounded and at home than she ever has in her life. Hiccup clasps his hands together behind her, wrists resting on her hips. He’s still sweaty, but Astrid doesn’t mind. To a warrior like her, sweat is attractive, a product of training and hard work. And by Thor he smells good. His chin is tucked into her shoulder, his hair tickling her cheek. She’s glad she took off her armour, feeling lighter, and closer to him than she ever has before. She feels his breath in her ear as he says, “Do you want to go eat?”

Astrid buries her face into his neck. “Not yet.”

Hiccup unclasps his hands and gently trails them up and down her back. “You know I – I sent the others away so we could be alone.”

Astrid pulls back. “You did?” she asks in surprise. “But what about the noises coming from the other side of the island?”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn’t need explaining.

Astrid laughs and leans into him again, pressing her nose to his shoulder. This time, she curls her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck as his hands continue their journey around her back.

She loves his hands. Though they’re thin and nimble, she’s seen them do amazing things. As they travel down her back, she begins to understand why dragons respond to him the way they do. Astrid begins to feel like a dragon herself under his touch. She feels trusting, ready to follow him anywhere, but at the same time, pressed against him like this, there’s still something wild and untamed running through her veins, and it gives her the courage to pull back and kiss him.

He responds instantly, melting into her as if this kiss is something he’s been waiting a long time for.

Perhaps it is. Perhaps he has.

It’s the same for her.

Her fingers dance across his chest, running lightly down his ribs so that he shudders. She wonders what it would feel like to have the skin of her own chest pressed against him. The thought pools her stomach with warmth, and she deepens the kiss, barely hearing Toothless as he settles down to sleep with a soft grunt.

This is nothing they haven’t done before, but tonight, with only them at the base, it suddenly isn’t enough. She pulls her shirt out from her skirt, lifting it just below her breasts so that when his hands come down again they have no choice but to brush her bare skin.

Hiccup pulls back, startled.

“What?” she says, breathless. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” He swallows, throat bobbing. “Are you sure?” he whispers. “Is this okay?”

Astrid takes his hands in hers and places them on either side of her waist, then leans in to kiss his neck. Hiccup tilts his head back with an exhale, and she loves it; loves that she can make him feel like this. The heir of Berk, the dragon master, _Hiccup Haddock_ , is at her mercy.

And she is at his.

Hiccup brings his head forward again to kiss her, and this time, his hands edge upward until his knuckles brush the underside of her breasts, and a moan escapes her before she can stop it. This only encourages him, and he pushes her shirt up further.

“Hiccup…”

He cups her, his palms calloused, and rougher than she expected, but it only heightens the feeling on her sensitive skin. He’s warm, and she’s warm, and it has nothing to do with the fire. His breath hitches in his throat as he gently squeezes her breasts, as if it feels as good for him as it does for her.

Astrid traces his bottom lip with her tongue, then nips it softly, pleased when he moans against her mouth. She runs her fingers along the waist of his trousers.

Hiccup doesn’t pull back, but he asks between kisses, “What about dinner?”

She whispers, “It can wait.”


End file.
